


Give Life Back To Music

by Arithanas



Category: Interstella 5555
Genre: Cultural exchange, Developing Relationship, Diplomacy, M/M, Music, Worldbuilding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-25
Updated: 2019-12-25
Packaged: 2021-02-26 00:40:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,336
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21904639
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arithanas/pseuds/Arithanas
Summary: Earth takes and invitation and, by unexpected circumstances, ended up being a bit lighter.
Relationships: Octave/Records Chief (Interstella 5555)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 21
Collections: Yuletide 2019





	Give Life Back To Music

**Author's Note:**

  * For [FlyingQuetzal](https://archiveofourown.org/users/FlyingQuetzal/gifts).



The message was caught by some of the many satellites orbiting the Earth. This was a message no one had expected to receive, but the whole world rejoiced when they showed it on all the different news channels. The CrescentDolls graced the screens in every home, and music made all the hearts gay.

It was a video with a new song by the CrescentDolls and the recurring image of a long white piece of fabric studded with three red gems. Only a handful of people understood the real meaning of the communication, among them a young music honcho who had had the privilege of looking at the contents of the memory disk and actually spending time with the band.

The scientific community was split by that sudden request for help. Of course, they had found the headbands and they were completely floored by the intricacies of the technology hidden inside the gems. They had been for the last two years. On one hand, they were reluctant to relinquish an authentic alien artifact; on the other, returning an unreplicable device would mean a chance to strengthen ties with a more advanced civilization.

The governments of the planet held long discussions about the need to expend money on a ship—money all the nations of Earth thought would be better spent on their population. Many of them argued that they were not in the position to expend resources, even if they had done it once.

Some industries tried to provide their insights; telecommunication was an especially active one. In fact, the music industry constituted a pretty aggressive lobby. The major record labels sat in remote communications each week to get updates on how the four corners of the earth were reacting to the numerous debates. There came a time when they almost folded to conservative opinion and got ready to withdraw from the discussion, but a voice spoke out louder than the rest.

“They gave us a new sound, a new horizon to aim for, and uncountable amounts of pleasure,” he said, adjusting the glasses over the tip of his nose. “Things of value we can’t put a price on.”

The whole table turned to look at him. Older men, much more powerful and influential than him, surveyed him with suspicion. The young manager nodded and looked back.

“We owe them.”

It took them almost a year of continued pressure, of support rallies, of opinion polls, but in the end, Earth just couldn’t get enough of the CrescentDolls. One of the ships belonging to the late Earl de Darkwood was retrofitted to match the technology of their friends.

Almost half a year had passed since the transmission; the whole world was waiting for the launch with high expectations. If travel could work this time, perhaps Earth and their home could have a steady exchange of technology and, more importantly, music.

Earth sent the usual suspects: scientific experts, some military personnel for the sake of the show, and representatives of the industries, among them a certain manager who had done his best to be among the first selected.

The trip was a wonder in itself. Humanity’s first diplomatic interstellar voyage went swiftly. Earth emissaries met them to guide them through the asteroid field. Almost no one took notice, but their guests’ ship hulls were vibrating. More strangely, they had rhythm and beat… almost like the paper cone of a subwoofer, quivering at the impulse of a potent voice coil. 

The human contingent arrived on the planet and was welcomed warmly. Kids offered them food and drink; grown-ups rushed to escort them to all the places. And the music—every place was filled with music.

The CrescentDolls were among the welcoming party. It was soon evident that they were not only a band but that the people around them also vied for their attention. Arpegius barely smiled at the visitors before turning his attention to the kids, and Baryl joined a group of young men, not too different from the clusters of fans they could have on Earth. Stella greeted them with a soft, singing voice, but her attention was quickly stolen by a group of girls. The scientific branch of the trip suddenly regretted not bringing any sociology experts. 

While the rest of the band tried to contain the excitement around them, only Octave remained in place, smiling at the earthling guests. The young manager dared to wave hello, suddenly doubting that Octave would remember him among the waves of adoration. To his surprise, Octave’s face cracked in a smile and he rushed to take that raised hand.

“Welcome to my home,” Octave said, with a voice as melodic as the tunes he extracted from his keyboard. “Your people named me Octave when I was in your land. Can I call you Scale?”

It was a pleasing nickname, and the man now called Scale nodded. Around them, people cheered, and the rest of the CrescentDolls flashed them an approving sign. Scale felt almost at home.

From that point onward, Octave didn’t leave the group’s side. The military bunch became bored pretty fast, but Scale and the Scientific branch of the group were having the time of their lives. Every populated enclave was filled with music, and music meshed with technology in surprising ways.

That very night, the CrescentDolls started the concert without their headbands. Scientists sat in the front row, looking at the public, notepads in hand. Scale nodded and tapped his foot for the first quarter of the show, and smiled when the military guys followed his lead. The concert was good, but not better than the one the CrescentDolls had given on Earth.

Then it happened. And it was marvelous…

A bunch of kids climbed the set, and the CrescentDolls raised them high. The kids fixed the headbands around their heads. The public collectively let out an awed exclamation, confusing their earthling guests—because those headbands, despite their astonishing technology, didn’t seem to serve a practical use.

The CrescentDolls picked up their instruments, and the song was magic made sound. The public raved at their sound, and the lights had a new shine to them. The science squad filled pages upon pages with this little detail before they even noticed the glowing orbs.

“At first,” Octave explained once they returned backstage, “we thought our sound was not as powerful as before because Stella still missed Shep. But then we noticed our replacement headbands were not working right. Ancient artifacts are not easily replaceable.”

Octave showed them the headband and tried to explain how gifted people like the CrescentDolls were raised from childhood to help channel all the planet’s music. Euphoria in their world was much more valuable than oil was for the people of Earth, and euphoria, a perfectly renewable source of energy, couldn't be exploited, only gathered. Octave’s people had harnessed euphoria to make their world a better place for everyone.

Scale felt like chiming in to express how unbelievably stunning the technology of this strange yet splendid land was, but the scientific team crowded Octave, harassing him with questions he probably was not ready to answer. Scale shook his head; this was what he had been born to do.

Pushing his way into the crowd was a child’s play; he had done it a thousand times and more for his clients. Bullying the scientific team into submission was just an issue of volume and speed; they were soon staring at Scale with wide, confused eyes. And finally, to keep Octave safe from a second assault, he clutched Octave’s hand and dragged him outside the concert hall, refusing to look back, only forward.

“Oh, I’d forgotten about this hassle!” Octave commented with a peal of laughter as soon as they were in the relative anonymity of the street.

“All you musicians do…” Scale shared the laugh without a second thought; Octave’s laughter was infectious and Scale refused to fight against it. After a while, Scale dared to ask, “What do you do with all the euphoria?”

“The pillars condensed it,” Octave answered with a smile, pointing out at a tall white structure. “We all provide euphoria, we all benefit from it.”

“Wonderful…”

Scale began to notice the tall pillars everywhere, and he was quick to pick up that no one on this planet could ever be asked where they had learned to sing or to play. That question was as absurd as asking an earthling when they had learned to breathe. Here, even babies in their cribs hummed loudly when they wanted to turn the lights up.

Such marvels!

Clubs were of a very different nature on this planet. They had a dancefloor and two stages. Octave took Scale to one to escape the scientific team, and they sat there for the better part of a day. Sometimes there was a small band trying their new material; other times, there were duels. Friendly duels for the sake of it, individuals against individuals or bands against bands, daring each other to raise the meters measuring condensed euphoria on their sides of the club. All of them were really creative, more than Scale had seen on Earth.

Dancing was encouraged, and dance they did. 

Octave had dragged Scale to the floor, and Scale liked being next to him. Octave’s contagious joy filled Scale’s chest each time his steps matched Octave’s, seeing how his partner was ready to follow even the most shoddy dance moves Scale had to offer, and how he did it with energy, amusement, and good humor. On Earth, dancing almost felt like a chore to Scale, a mechanical series of steps performed for the sake of the audience. Octave made dancing easy and fun. 

“Earth is an easy place to perform,” Octave commented once they returned to their table. “You only have to please one listener. We are more competitive here; if you can’t get ten people to dance, then you need to work harder.”

“You don’t make it look like work,” Scale dared to disagree, still dazed by how much Octave had improved his experience.

“It’s not work when I do it for…” Octave cast his eyes down with a shy smile. “...when the right audience is in front of you.”

They crawled a lot of clubs in the following days and danced to young performers and old alike, and euphoria was an electric charge running through them, away from them. One night—blame it on the drink, blame it on the glee—Scale felt lightheaded and his step faltered on the dance floor. Octave caught him, drunk on euphoria. 

Then another marvel happened: a kiss on the dancefloor, surrounded by the cadence of good music. Scale almost felt euphoria swelling inside him, contained only by Octave’s tight embrace. At this potent siren’s call, Scale tossed his cares to the wind and let his lips press against Octave’s. Euphoria rushed through them like a surge of water escaping a broken dam. Octave’s lips were warm and supple and tasted like the light but potent wine of his land. Scale hooked his arm behind Octave’s neck and tugged him closer, with hunger, with passion. Octave’s hand pressed against the small of Scale’s back, holding him. Claiming him.

Marvelous didn’t begin to describe it.

Octave began inviting Scale to his creative sessions. Each city had a building constructed for the express purpose of inviting musicians. For the price of a unit of frustration, while creating, all musicians could get a team of experts to consult and to tweak their new creation. Hidden panels opened at the right note extracted from novel instruments, and there was always a complex music sheet cached inside. 

Scale could barely read music on Earth, and the notation Octave’s people used was a complete enigma to him. But then Octave asked him to sit and hear a new song.

Octave’s fingers ran across the keyboard. Scale could almost felt them prickling all the nerves beneath his skin. Octave’s song permeated him and left him drenched in a liquid, volatile mixture of emotions. Octave came and offered Scale the refuge of his arms before the feeling could spill over in a torrent of tears.

“That was beautiful…” Scale murmured and hid his face in Octave’s chest.

“You gave life to my song,” Octave replied, searching Scale’s face. “If it holds any beauty, it’s because of you.”

With a sigh, Scale tilted his head up. He had to look at the being who said such things of him. Octave’s face was looking at him with a tender worry across his face. They kissed again, softly. Euphoria engulfed them like the warm water of a quiet lake, and they both breathed the same air that tasted of something stronger than affection and weaker than annihilation. For the briefest moment, their hearts shared the same beat, and the room shone brighter than the midday sun.

Such a wonder...

But the time for wonders was getting shorter, and the human contingent had to return to their side of the universe. The window was closing soon, and it would be at least three years before it opened again. The scientific branch couldn’t wait to return and try building a euphoria condenser, and the military bunch wanted only to escape this place.

“Scale,” Octave said before joining the CrescentDolls for the send-off concert, “will you stay with me?”

Scale—the name grew more and more to his liking every time it tumbled from Octave’s lips—dithered; this world was amazing, but Scale lacked the aptitude to perform and create music, and so this world would always be alien to him.

“Please,” Octave insisted with a small smile before Arpegius dragged him onstage. “Please give life to my music…”

The concert began, and the slingshot runway carried the Earth vessel upwards, propelled by the collective euphoria of the whole world hearing the CrescentDolls give their best performance yet.

In the crowd stood Scale, looking at the energy orbs surrounding Octave. In his heart, he wished the wonders would never end.

**Author's Note:**

> El from Discord had made their best to catch all the mistakes made by the author of this piece. Kudos to El!


End file.
